


Haunting

by xXPokeFictionXx_Is_A_Horrible_Username



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But they can't see Wilson, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crying, Denial, F/M, Ghosts have all powers they do in the game, Grief/Mourning, Haunting, He doesn't hurt anyone don't worry, Help, How Do I Tag, Idk what else to tag but I'll add more probably, Swearing, Tags Are Fun, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, Willow thinks he died and is sad, Wilson doesn't know how to make himself visible, Wilson is a good ghosty boi, excessive use of the word "fuck"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXPokeFictionXx_Is_A_Horrible_Username/pseuds/xXPokeFictionXx_Is_A_Horrible_Username
Summary: Ever since all the survivors were united, things were good. No one had died, even though it was midway through their first winter. But that changed when the Deerclops attacked. Now Willow is tormented by the haunting memories of her now-dead best friend, Wilson. But it turns out that maybe she was being haunted in more ways than one.(Or, no one knows dead survivors become ghosts.)





	1. Lighter

**Author's Note:**

> I did not expect this to be so dramatic. Well, whatever, I hope you all like it!

It happened so fast. It all happened so, so, horribly fast.

It was winter, awful, awful, winter. Winter was always Willow’s least favorite season, but never before has she loathed it with such a fiery passion. No, fiery wasn’t the right word, fire was something she _enjoyed_. Fire was beautiful, and warm. Fire kept her alive during this awful season of snow. Fire…

…

No.

She was trying to distract herself at this point, but that was pointless. The truth was horrifying, awful, the worst thing that could ever happen to her. But there was.. There was no point denying it.

There was no point denying it.

_There was no point denying it._

_There’s no point denying the truth._

Despite telling herself that over and over again, it was still so, so hard to follow through.

She still didn’t, couldn’t, believe what had happened.

Even though it was winter, everyone was doing fine. Even if things were more difficult than usual, the base had everything that everyone needed to survive, plus some! Dare say that as long as she stayed close to the beautiful fire, so she could stay warm and admire its beauty all day and night long and _for once_ not be judged for it, well. Dare say she was comfortable. 

And..

Oh god.

The last thing that happened before she heard the noise, no, why, _why_ , she was having a fucking _petty argument_. Arguing with.. Arguing with Wilson about whether we should try to hunt koalaphants in this weather or not. He wanted to stay safe, even until.. Even until the end, he didn’t want anyone getting hurt. But there she was, opposing that..

Willow doesn’t think she could regret something as much as this, not ever again.

There she was, then, before it happened, objecting the notion to stay safe, to take the risk to hunt. How ironic that was the last thing she did before the noise.

But why?! _Why?!_ There was plenty of food, warm fire, enough resources to bunker down until winter ended, and yet. She was objecting that. Why, why?!

For the stupid trunk. They didn’t even need it.

…

And that was one of the last things she ever did… with him… before the noise.

Breathing. A massive creature, breathing from so far away. Louder. Coming closer. Getting louder. Roars and twisted cries of pain.

No, no, that was later… the worst part. At the time, it was just breathing.

Everyone heard it, and everyone was immediately put on edge. Some of the survivors knew what it was, some didn’t. She didn’t know, she’d never managed to make it that long. The group was the only reason she survived this long so far, so she didn’t even know what it was.

Deerclops.

That’s what it was called. What was breathing, coming closer.

Wilson knew. He was one of the ones who knew what it was. He looked absolutely terrified. Willow had never seen Wilson look like that. It was absolutely heartbreaking.

And then it was there. The Deerclops was there.

Then there was ice. Willow had always hated ice, but never more so than now. Destruction in all directions, being forced to flee and watch as the base, what everyone was relying on to survive through the winter with, was destroyed.

And it didn’t even take that long.

But that was fine, Willow could’ve lived with that.

But no.

Then, it targeted them. The survivors.

Wigfrid decided to fight it first. Everyone had ran for too long, there was no way to avoid it. They had to face it, head on, she told everyone, before charging into battle with a cry. No one could leave her behind, never, so everyone else tried to fight it, too.

Willow wished they’d all just kept running, that Wigfrid hadn’t tried. She wished they’d lured it into a trap, burnt it, _something!_ But no.

Idiots, everyone in the group were idiots then, clearly not knowing what was coming, because everyone just.. Charged. Tentacle spikes, ham bats, battle spear. Warriors helms, football helmets, log suits. 

It worked. Technically, ignoring everything that happened, they did eventually kill it. But fuck, it wasn’t worth it. _It would never be anywhere close to worth it._

_Never._

_Never._

_Never._

_Never…_

She was frozen in place when the worst of the worst part happened. Willow hated ice, so, so much. It got them all, in one swipe, she wasn’t expecting it to be that powerful. The Deerclops froze them all in place in one swipe. Then, it chose a target to kill while everyone was defenseless in a block of ice.

Wilson.

_Wilson._

_Why, why, why wasn’t it herself instead, in place of him, why did he have to die?!_

It singled him out, and why, why would it single him out, and it murdered him, before anyone could break out of the ice. In front of their very eyes.

There were things Willow wished that they could’ve done instead. She wished they’d all just kept running. She wished they’d lured it into a trap, or _burnt it_. Which, technically, Willow did. She _did_ burn it.

She screamed, and screamed, and burnt the forest down, as she was told by everyone else afterwards. Willow didn’t even remember, she was too blinded by rage and grief to remember. 

By the time that vile, awful creature escaped the fire, they barely had to do anything more before it went down. Just a few swings. Brutal, rage-filled swipes.

You know, one thing has never made sense to Willow, since it happened. A lot of things didn't, but this detail in particular irked her. When they skinned it for the meat, and damn, there wasn’t _ever_ going to be enough meat to make up for what happened, but they only got as about much meat as a _fucking koalaphant._

Well, that and its stupid eyeball, which we had to keep too. The survivors who had lived past Deerclops’ attack before, in the era before Maxwell was dethroned, knew it was too valuable to throw away. But that’s besides the point.

No, what never made sense? Was the type of meat that was obtained from skinning it.

It wasn’t monster meat. It was just completely average. 

And to her, that was _fucking enraging._

Why didn’t this creature yield the iconic meat that _all the monsters_ do when they _die?! Was this a cruel joke?! Who didn’t consider this abomination as a fucking monster?!_

_IT KILLED WILSON. IT DESTROYED THE BASE, AND THUS ANY CHANCE OF ANYONE ELSE SURVIVING PAST THIS._

_HOW WASN’T IT CONSIDERED A MONSTER?!_

Maxwell had told her shamefully that he had decided killing this creature should yield a good reward, and that monster meat just wasn't good enough to fill that purpose.

Willow logically knew that was justified, but it still irritated her to no end.

And then there was the funeral.

They had all decided Wilson had deserved a proper burial. Obviously. So everyone had to work together to make it happen. Woodie and Lucy cut down the trees and Winona and Wickerbottom made the logs into boards and built the coffin. Webber and Wendy dug the hole. Maxwell, being the least disturbed by this kind of thing, moved the body.

They'd sent her to pick flowers for him.

Willow knew it was because they thought she was taking Wilson’s death the hardest, and they definitely weren’t wrong, but it didn't make her feel any better. Normally, picking flowers was soothing to Willow, which it was for a while, but of course that didn't last long. She didn’t know why exactly, but just being alive, living, breathing was seeming to take a toll on her sanity. 

A part of her wished that she could’ve helped more than she did. Another part of her was grateful that no one made her do any more.

Once Willow had come back with the flowers, it didn’t take much longer for the funeral to start. Everyone mourned, most of the survivors crying, until the ceremony was over and everyone helped to bury the casket.

Willow hadn’t cried during the whole thing. She just stood there, numb, until everyone had left. A few of the survivors tried to get her to come with them, but she refused, eventually leading everyone to reluctantly give up and leave her behind.

It was just her and the grave now.

Finally, with no one else around, Willow felt her composure finally break.

Which lead her to the present, sobbing uncontrollably in front of her dead best friend’s grave, trying her best to stop denying everything that was happening. Willow ignored the cold of the snow as she collapsed to her knees, wrapping her arms around her stomach to hug herself pathetically.

Willow didn’t know how long she’d been there, and how long she would be there until she regained her composure, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t focus on those questions, or anything really, with this pain in her heart distracting her.

She noticed through her blurry vision that the sun was about to set, but honestly, she didn’t care. She had her lighter. 

Probably.

And so what if she began to feel the cold seeping into her bones? That didn’t even matter.

And even if she was beginning to see flickers of shadows at the edges of her vision, she didn’t care. She probably had time before any of those flickers gained any form.

It didn’t matter to Willow if she was in grave danger in a multitude of ways, what mattered was crying buckets of tears until the pain in her chest was gone.

Even if a part of Willow knew that no matter how much she cried it wouldn’t take away the pain in her heart, that didn't matter to her. Even if she were to try, she wouldn’t be able to stop crying. She knew that.

Between her shuddering sobs, she thought she heard a noise, and tried to quiet down a bit to hear. But there was nothing there, only a particularly cold breeze to make her shudder. Willow was just about to decide that she was going to ignore it when she felt something fall out of her pocket. 

She looked down to see her lighter, glinting strangely in the light. Weird. That shouldn’t have just... fallen out of her pocket like that?

She paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, before moving her hand slowly towards the lighter apprehensively. Just before she was about to grab it, a strange light enveloped it, and it seemed to jump a bit further from her.

“Ah!” The pyromaniac yelped, startled. The lighter continued to glint abnormally in the light for a moment before it faded back into reflecting normal lighting. “What…?” She murmured, curious and lowkey terrified.

She leaned down towards the lighter, on her hands and knees now, to get a closer look, face flushed from the cold. Surely enough, the same thing happened again, the lighter continuing to move in the same direction.

“Are… are you trying to lead me somewhere?” She muttered, mostly to herself. She watched as the strange glow disappeared again, and then immediately jumped again, glow returning. Willow stood up, the lighter a ways away from her now, and took a few steps closer to it. It jumped again. Willow took another step forwards.

This seemed to go on for an eternity, although in reality it was only a few minutes, when the lighter stopped, not moving again. Willow slowly picked up the lighter again, this time being met with no resistance, and looked up to see where it had lead her. 

She was back to the ruins of the camp, the other survivors trying to fix certain parts of it. Willow paused, unsure of how to react, but feeling strangely calm as she walked back to where her little section of camp was. She began rebuilding slowly, too numb to really process what was happening. 

Just as Willow finished fixing her firepit, the only thing she was really actively trying to fix at the moment, she looked up, paling.

“Shit!” She exclaimed, quickly throwing a log in the pit and lighting it up, just as the sky turned fully dark.

She collapsed near the fire, sighing in relief as she threw on another log and felt the warmth of her fiery companion for the night. She suddenly realized just how cold she was.

Willow paused, and looked to the lighter slowly. If the lighter hadn’t started doing… whatever it had done when it did, she’d probably be dead right now. 

Holy shit.

What had just happened?!

Willow felt a panic overtake her. What the hell just happened?! What made her lighter move?! Why did it save her?! Why didn’t she care earlier that she was about to _die?!_

What was happening?!

A small part of Willow noted that this was a very late reaction to this, but it was drowned out by the larger part of her just panicking. 

She looked to her lighter, opening her mouth to speak, before pausing.

“Oh no, I am _not_ about to start trying to talk to my lighter!” She growled, upset at herself for what she was about to do. “I’m probably just losing my mind.” She sighed, all anger gone as quickly as it came and a deep sorrow replacing it. It looks like she’d have to make a top hat or something tomorrow. 

Against her will, Willow felt herself start to tear up. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying not to be too upset. But she couldn’t help it. She was actually losing her mind over this.

Willow buried her face into her knees, silently crying. Oh god. She was _losing her mind_ over this. What if she was too late? What if she couldn’t save herself from her own insanity fast enough? What if the shadows attacked her now? What if-

Suddenly, she noticed a faint glow, and looked down. Her lighter.

It looked the same at it had earlier, but in the darkness of the night it was much easier to notice that it held a faint glow. It didn’t jump this time, and the glow was significantly weaker than it had been earlier. But it also didn’t disappear, constantly there.

“Oh- Oh my god?!” Willow gasped in shock, staring at the lighter with wide eyes. “Hello?!” She exclaimed, before immediately mentally scolding herself. 

But the glow didn’t go away. The lighter glowed strangely in the dark, a comforting blue light coming from it. 

“Is this real…?” She muttered to herself, mesmerized. She realized it could just be a result of her insanity.

But then again, wasn’t her reasoning for thinking she was insane was the fact that she thought the lighter had moved? 

Willow thought, stumped. She had definitely seen shadows earlier, but was she already so far gone that she was imagining all of this? Seeing the glowing lighter right in front of her was definitely making her feel otherwise, but she could never be too careful. But how could she confirm that any of this was real?

Wait.

The others.

Willow smiled, coming up with an idea. If the others could see this too, then she’d know whether or not she’d gone insane. She just hoped that if she was losing it, the shadow monsters would at least wait until she was done asking her friends if the weird things her lighter was doing was real. 

...

Before she knew it, it was morning. She’d stared at the lighter all night. When the sun chased away the darkness of the night, Willow panicked at first. She thought that the lighter had stopped glowing. But as soon as she’d thought this, it’d started glinting again, only for a moment before stopping. 

This convinced Willow to move. 

Willow walked hurriedly through the partially repaired camp, looking for someone, _anyone_ , to confirm that what she’d seen the whole night was real. 

Willow hoped it was real.

Willow spotted a glow in the distance, and rushed towards it. Once she was closer, she spotted who she suspected would be here, and walked to her in a panic.

The glow she’d seen in the distance was Abigail, and she knew that Wendy wouldn’t be far behind her sister. Which Willow was right about. Perfect.

“Wendy!” She called out, stopping in front of the girl. She looked up at Willow, blinking in surprise. “Oh, you’re alive. I thought that the darkness had taken you.”

Willow paused, staring at the pessimistic girl for a second. You know what, she was just going to ignore that, there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Okay, but seriously, Wendy.” Willow began, a bit nervously. “Do you notice anything weird about my lighter?” 

Wendy stared hard at the lighter for a moment, before looking back up at Willow. “No.”

Willow looked down at the lighter, sighing frustratedly. “It’s not doing it right now.” 

“What exactly do you mean by that?” 

Willow shuddered, a sinking feeling in her gut. It wasn’t real. “I thought I noticed something weird with my lighter, but I guess I was wrong. I-I think I’m losing it…” She spoke softly, sounding more terrified than Wendy had ever heard her.

There was a moment of silence before Willow noticed a soft glint. She gasped. “Wait. _Wait._ Do you see that? Please tell me you see that.” Willow panicked, gesturing to the lighter. Wendy squinted hard, trying to see what Willow was talking about.

“I… I’m afraid I don’t. I’m sorry, Willow.” Wendy sighed. She knew that Willow didn’t want to hear that she was crazy, but it was true, and lying to the pyromaniac would only make things worse. 

“No, _no._ I-It’s hard to see, there’s gotta be a way to make it easier for you to see!” She cried, shivering violently. This can’t be real. She can’t be insane, this has to be real. 

Willow was absolutely terrified. 

“If there’s a way to make it easier to see, try it. Trust me, I _do_ want to see what you’re seeing, but I’m afraid you might be right. You might be going crazy.” Wendy told her, frowning nervously. 

The girl was afraid for Willow, in all honesty. She hoped that Willow was right, that whatever she was seeing was just hard to notice. She hoped that Willow wasn’t becoming insane. But Wendy knew that her hopes were unlikely.

Willow thought hard, feeling her breathing speed up. There had to be a way to make her see it. It felt so real, and it helped her, it prevented her death, it helped to calm her down, it had to be real, it had to be! Suddenly, Willow got an idea.

“It glows!” She exclaimed, causing Wendy to flinch a bit at her volume. “T-the lighter, it should glow, i-it should be glowing!” She explained hastily, using the hand that wasn’t holding her prized possession to cast a shadow over the lighter. She saw the lighter glowing softly, much easier to notice in the slight shadow her hand cast, but still hard to see.

Wordlessly, Wendy slowly brought her hands near Willows, trying to block out as much sunlight as possible to see if Willow was right. She squinted for a moment before her eyes widened. The pessimistic girl gasped in surprise.

“I-I see it!” She exclaimed. Willow tensed for a moment, before smiling widely. “Y-you do?! I haven’t completely lost it?!” She cried out, hopefully. She felt her eyes well up with happy tears.

“Yeah! I do!” Wendy grinned, relieved that her friend wasn’t hallucinating. “Oh, great, that-that’s… I’m…” Willow grinned widely, relief clear across her features, trying her best to speak but unable to find the right words.

“That’s just… That’s just so great to hear.” Willow sobbed out, smiling widely as relieved tears streamed down her face. 

Wendy noticed Abigail making her way over to see what was happening, before the ghost paused. Suddenly, the spirit rushed over. Willow looked up to see Abigail staring at the lighter with wide eyes. The ghost whispered frantically, to quickly for Willow to understand.

Abigail was already hard to understand, but if she tried she could make survivors other than Wendy understand her. But with such quick words out of the ghost, it was impossible for anyone other than Wendy to understand her.

“What? What’s happening, Abigail?” Wendy asked. The ghost turned to her, eyes wide. Abigail said something to her sister in her ghostly whispers, causing Wendy’s eyes to widen. “What?!” Wendy exclaimed.

Abigail responded, seeming as shaken up as Wendy was by whatever she saw.

“What? What’s going on?!” Willow asked, panicking a bit. Wendy turned to her, looking more shocked than Willow had ever seen her.

“Willow…” Wendy began, sounding as shaken as she looked. “Abigail… W-We know what’s happening to your lighter.”

“What?! What’s happening to it?!”

“It’s being possessed. Abigail says it’s Wilson.”


	2. Haunted

When Wilson woke up, he woke up gradually. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes drowsily, not in any type of rush.

 

After a moment, he opened his eyes fully, glancing around his surroundings. It was at this moment he finally noticed that something was  _ very  _ wrong.

 

He was surrounded by snow and trees, instead of the roof of his tent, for one. But that certainly wasn’t all. He felt  _ off.  _ It was immediately obvious to him that something was amiss, that something about this situation wasn’t quite right. He took a moment to figure out why he felt so wrong.

 

He quickly came up with quite a few answers.

 

He felt lighter,  _ much  _ lighter, like he could almost blow away with the wind. He wasn’t cold, despite the fact that he was lying in the snow. He wasn’t hungry, or in pain. He didn’t feel any discomfort. He…  _ Couldn’t feel his legs _ . Why couldn’t he feel his legs?!

 

And how was he out in this weather?! How had he not frozen to death?!

 

Wilson shot up, and almost stumbled, unused to the way his body felt. It felt _so much_ _lighter._ He looked around, before glancing down, and immediately seeing two things.

 

One, instead of seeing himself, his red vest and his twig-like frame, he saw a  _ glowing, floaty mass. _

 

Two, he saw his own dead body on the ground, a crimson red leaking out of his stomach and staining the ground jarringly. The body’s eyes were glazed over, soulless.

  
Wilson screamed.

 

He looked to himself, then back to his body. The image of his corpse on the snow wasn’t going away, despite how ridiculous it seemed. He recoiled away from the dead version of himself on the ground, and noticed that the glowing mass seemed to back away at the same time, seeming to flicker a bit.

 

The conclusion, although it seemed impossible, was fairly obvious to him. He  _ was  _ the mass. 

 

He screamed again. Nothing seemed to notice, snow falling the same as it had been before, birds still chirping, and blood still dripping out of the large claw marks across his body’s stomach. 

 

He began to hyperventilate, trying to process what was happening and failing. He was floating, glowing, above his dead body, how, why, that’s impossible, it doesn’t make sense-

 

He quickly darted over to the body, hoping what he saw wasn’t true, hoping that the body would move, twitch, do anything. Instead, he caught his own reflection in his dead self’s eyes.

 

A ghost stood in his place, the same as any other you would encounter in the Constant, except for the fact that it had a glowing mass on its head resembling his hair.

 

He flinched back, and so did the ghost reflected in his body’s eyes, flickering as it did so.

 

Wilson came to the only logical conclusion he could in this situation.

 

He was the ghost.

 

He had  _ died.  _

 

Suddenly, the memories came rushing back, the memories he was too distracted by the feeling of wrongness to acknowledge before now.

 

_ Frozen in a block of ice by a creature he’d hoped to never see again. Looking to all his friends, everyone frozen in one swing. One huge, terrifying eye, glaring, scanning through its prey. Choosing him. The fear, the terror, the sadness he felt. The one thought, the last thought he’d ever had, overwhelming everything else. _

 

_ At least it wasn’t them. Thank goodness it chose me. _

 

Wilson gasped, the sound seeming to echo in the same strange way Abigail’s voice did. His unstable soul flickered wildly as he shivered. 

 

One intrusive thought stood out above the rest.

 

_ I’m still glad it wasn’t them; they don’t deserve this. _

 

Wilson nearly screamed again. He was dead, he was actually,  _ physically dead,  _ he was defying all known laws of science just by  _ existing _ . And yet, he still felt a small sense of relief that it wasn’t anyone else experiencing this. 

 

That should probably scare him a lot more than it did. It was highly concerning that he felt grateful to be in this situation, after all. But, he’d already determined long ago that he was the least valuable person in the group. Everyone but him had something special to offer to the team. 

 

Wolfgang and Wigfrid had incredible strength, Wendy had Abigail and could keep calm in life-threatening situations, WX-78 could eat spoiling foods and never got tired, Wickerbottom was incredibly intelligent and had her seemingly magical books, Woodie could chop down trees faster than should be possible, Maxwell could make shadow clones, Webber could befriend spiders, Wes provided moral support and kept everyone sane, and Winona was an incredible craftsman and could help make anything their group needed with ease...

 

And arguably the most remarkable was Willow, a girl who fire couldn’t hurt at all. She could walk straight into an inferno and emerge harmless. It defied all logic, and yet, it was true. It was amazing. Everyone was amazing.

 

But what did he do? 

 

He was just a failed scientist, who offered nothing to the team. Not nearly as intelligent as Wickerbottom, nor an incredible engineer like Winona. Not strong like Wolfgang or Wigfrid, or able to keep calm in stressful situations like Wendy. Untalented, unlike WX-78, Woodie, or even Maxwell. He wasn’t even able to provide comfort and emotional support like Webber or Wes. And he was entirely unremarkable, unlike Willow.

 

He was useless. Just another mouth to feed in a world where they had to fight to survive every day. According to all of the data, all of the facts he’d gathered over the course of his stay here, it was clear; he was worthless. 

 

It was probably better that he had died instead of anyone else.

 

Strangely, those thoughts only made his panicking worse. He was worthless, useless, and an idiot, and it was a good thing he had died instead of anyone else. So why wasn’t he feeling better? Why didn’t he calm down, knowing that this was for the best? Why did he  _ hurt? _

 

Why did it only hurt to know that he was merely a burden?

 

_ Why was it so painful to know that it was better that he was dead? _

 

A shriek rippled through the forest.

 

At first, Wilson thought it was his own. But then, the birds flew away. And, so far, that had never happened when he’d screamed. The smell of smoke wafted through the air.

 

_ Wait… Smoke? _ __   
__   
Suddenly, the trees lit ablaze. The inferno spread rapidly, engulfing everything in its path. The screaming continued.

 

There was only one person who that could possibly be.

 

Wilson darted towards the sound, weaving through the trees quickly, despite the fact that he could probably go straight through them. He heard the noise grow louder, and continued towards it with wide, panicked eyes. Finally, he found her.

 

There was Willow, in the middle of the fire, screaming. Tears streamed down her face as she lit everything around her on fire, including the Deerclops itself. Wilson froze, a heavy pit forming in his stomach at the sight of the beast that had killed him. It shrieked, trying to shield itself from the flames, to no avail. 

 

Finally, it decided to run, Willow seeing this and chasing after it with trembling legs. Wilson hesitated for a moment, before following them. They eventually emerged in a clearing, where Wilson soon noticed the other survivors, who must’ve fled when Willow started the fire.

 

He paused as he saw everyone else, most of them with tears streaming down their faces. Whether it was from the terror of seeing the Deerclops, the grief of losing their home, the fear of the massive fire, his own death, or maybe all of the above, almost everyone cried. 

 

Wilson froze, no longer following Willow. He didn’t want to move any closer; he didn’t want to see his friends suffering like this.

 

He watched quietly from the edge of the burning forest as the group took the weakened Deerclops down.

 

**…**

  
  


There were many things Wilson had expected the group to do after the Deerclops was defeated. However, he could safely say preparing a funeral for him wasn’t one of them.

 

Although not everyone could help, considering the base was destroyed, 7 out of the 11 survivors in their group helped with the ceremony. The funeral team consisted of Woodie, Winona, Wickerbottom, Webber, Wendy, Maxwell, and, surprisingly, Willow.

 

Wilson expected them to stop her from participating, in all honesty. She clearly wasn’t in a good place after everything, so he would’ve guessed everyone would make her stay away from the funeral preparations. 

 

However, she insisted on helping, and no one seemed to have the heart to say no to her. Wilson couldn’t blame them, if he was being honest. If Willow had stared at him with those sad, heartbroken eyes and insisted that she was going to help, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to say no either.

 

Everyone, luckily, had enough sense to put her on flower duty. The job was originally going to go to Wendy and Webber, since they were children and shouldn’t be doing much for this funeral either, but Willow seemed to need it more, considering how bad of a shape she was in.

 

Wendy and Webber got to dig the hole instead. Not too graphic, but still not the best choice the team could’ve made, in Wilson’s opinion. They could’ve done worse, though. 

 

**...**

  
  


Wilson didn’t know how to feel watching his own funeral. It certainly wasn’t a typical experience; watching people mourn over your own death didn’t seem possible. But yet, here he was.

 

Once again, most of the survivors were crying. Webber wailed loudly, and a few lone tears streamed down Wendy’s face. It was heartwrenching to see everyone’s clear grief. 

 

Out of the few people who weren’t crying, there was Willow. Wilson, however, knew that just because she wasn’t crying did  _ not  _ mean she was okay. There was a hazy, faraway look in her eyes, as she stared at the improvised gravestone blankly. 

 

He could tell that she wasn’t processing anything around her. It was incredibly concerning to see, and almost uncanny to the scientist. 

 

Webber was currently attempting to pull on Willow’s sleeve, trying to get the girl away from his grave.  But Willow didn’t react at all; she didn’t brush him off, didn’t follow him, didn’t tell him to stop. She didn’t say she’d be a second, or tell him that she was going right behind him. No.

 

All she did was… stare. 

 

It was obvious how broken she was over the scientist’s death. A clear testament to this was the fact that eventually, Webber gave up. They left Willow alone. It took a lot to get the spider-like child to give up on something, but Wilson guessed that Webber could also see the look in the pyromaniac’s eyes. 

 

So, that left the pair alone. Well, for Willow, it was more as if she were truly alone, considering nothing in this world could detect Wilson’s spirit, as far as he knew. He didn’t particularly feel like trying to figure out whether he qualified as a person who was here with Willow right now. 

 

No, he had more important things to worry about. Specifically, trying to figure out how this was happening. The entire situation was mind-boggling to the scientist; None of it made any sense. How in the world was he here?

 

Wilson was lost in thought trying to sort through his feelings when he heard a thud. Wilson was startled out of his train of thought quickly, blinking at the sudden, quiet sound. A moment after, it happened.

 

An ear piercing cry rippled through the forest. Wilson whipped around, eyes wide. What was happening?!

 

He looked to see Willow, on her knees and crying out in grief. She was screaming, tears flowing down her face.

 

...Oh. 

 

Oh no.

 

Oh, that’s not good, that’s not good at all. Wilson glanced around anxiously. Any creature in the Constant could probably hear her from a mile away. What if something came to hurt her? 

 

Not only that, but now Willow was on her knees in the snow. It was one thing to stand out in the cold for a while, but to be making physical contact with the cold snow in the already freezing weather… 

 

And that wasn’t even what Wilson was most concerned with. No, what he was most worried about was what was happening to Willow right now emotionally. While he was certainly quite worried about her state of grieving, his main concern was really her sanity, which was most certainly in an incredibly dangerous place right now.

 

Wilson himself had experienced firsthand what would happen if he let this place get to him. Shadows would come to life, the world would reduce to a sickening monotone, and creatures that were normally harmless would twist into something terrifying. 

 

Normally, the conditions of Wilson’s own insanity wouldn’t be of concern in regards to Willow. Normally, he could be fairly certain no shadows would come to kill her. 

 

However, Wilson has had some incredibly strange conversations with other survivors in the past.

 

As it turns out, Wilson most certainly wasn’t the only one to experience these symptoms before. In fact, every survivor who had experienced intense turmoil in the Constant before had. Once, he had even witnessed it firsthand. 

 

One afternoon, after a full moon, Woodie had dashed into the camp in a hurry. He had been missing all night, so when he dashed into the camp like something was hot on his tail, everyone was immediately concerned. But when everyone yelled out questions as to what was going on, he just said that  _ they were chasing him. _

 

It was incredibly concerning to watch, as he twisted around and tried to hide behind Wes as best he could. But luckily, Wilson had jumped to action quickly. 

 

For context, Wilson had been having an awful day before this. Everyone had split up to look for Woodie, and he had been assigned to look in the swamps. The swamps always took a toll on Wilson, but it had turned out that this toll may have been what saved Woodie’s life. Because, thanks to this, Wilson had been seeing shadows out of the corners of his eyes all day. 

 

So, when Wilson squinted, he was able to see the Terrorbeak trying to lunge at the lumberjack.

 

In a panic, Wilson had thrown his boomerang at the beast. If Wilson was in a calm state of mind, he probably wouldn’t have even tried it. After all, this was a beast made of shadow, why on earth would throwing a boomerang at it  _ work? _

 

But Wilson was panicking.

  
And,  _ somehow, it had worked.  _

 

For reasons his science still couldn’t explain, the boomerang hit the creature dead on. After the weapon had bounced off of the supposedly hallucinatory creature, everyone knew immediately that something was there. And, knowing that something was there,  _ somehow,  _ let everyone see the creature.

 

Luckily, once everyone saw it and realized what was happening, they all worked together to take out the creature, succeeding fairly quickly. After that, everyone helped restore Woodie’s fragile state of mind, rushing him over to a nearby meadow to pick some flowers.

 

The point was, the effects of a negative state of mind on this island were not only very much real, but also  _ incredibly dangerous.  _

 

And Wilson was fairly certain that at this rate, Willow was probably going to end up being a magnet for that danger in a matter of minutes.

 

Wilson began to panic, not knowing what he should do. His wispy form darted about and flickered anxiously, resembling the way he’d fidget and pace back when he had a human body. 

 

For lack of a better plan, Wilson ended up trying to do the same thing Webber had, and attempted to tug on her sleeve.

 

Wilson struggled to move his wispy form the way he wanted, trying to grab at Willow’s sleeve desperately, before quickly realizing the problem.

 

He didn’t have any hands. 

 

Of course, he had seen his reflection earlier, it made sense that he didn’t have hands! So, the only thing he could try to grab her with was…

 

Wilson tried to reach out one of the ghostly tendrils from the bottom of his form, moving it back and forth to try and get used to it. The feeling was incredibly strange, and he imagined that if he were an octopus, this is what moving around with tentacles might feel like. Or perhaps a better metaphor might be being like a spider, with only legs and no arms.

 

Wilson shuddered. He already missed his hands.

 

He reached over to Willow and did his best to grab her sleeve, despite knowing that it probably wouldn’t work, considering the fact that he hadn’t been able to interact with anything in the world so far. However, much to his surprise, the area around where his wispy leg-thing was touching started to glow, and he succeeded in giving Willow’s sleeve a weak tug.

 

Wilson grinned widely, and tried to tug harder, but his strange form merely went through the sleeve when he tried, the cloth returning to its original position easily and it's glow fading away. 

 

Wilson felt that if he could’ve, he would’ve grown pale. He couldn’t help her. He could barely tug at her sleeve, he’d never catch her attention at this rate!

 

He desperately tried to grab at the fabric again. The ghost pulled at it gently, in hopes of being able to maintain contact with the shirt. But despite his efforts, Willow didn’t even notice that anything was different, only continuing to sob. And worse, after about 10 seconds, Wilson’s form phased through the shirt sleeve again, despite how carefully he was tugging at it.  

 

Wilson began to panic. Not only could he not pull very hard, but he also had a time limit?! This was awful! He had to get Willow out of here, but how could he do that when he practically couldn’t do anything?!

 

Wilson looked around frantically, before spotting something. It was Willow’s prized lighter, fit snugly into a pocket on the front of her shirt. The top of the lighter was clearly poking out, but the device was still thin enough to fit inside, even if it was a bit tall. 

  
An epiphany struck the ghost. If the lighter was tall enough to stick out of that pocket a little bit, but thin enough for Willow to take it out and put it back easily, then that lead Wilson to one incredibly important conclusion.

 

It wouldn’t be hard for him to pull it out of her pocket.

 

Wilson gasped, and darted over to the front of the girl immediately, facing her to give him easy access to the lighter. He reached out with his strange glowing body to try to take out the lighter, and…

 

It lifted just far enough to get out of Willow’s pocket, before falling to the snowy ground with a light thud.

 

“Aha!” Wilson cried out, triumphant. He’d done it! That’d get her attention for sure! He watched as Willow looked down at the lighter, her tearstained face looking mildly confused. She slowly reached towards it.

 

Wait, no! She was supposed to go back to the camp, but she was just picking it up! Damn it, of course that wouldn’t have worked! Even if her lighter falling out of her pocket was strange, she wouldn’t question it in this state!

 

As Willow’s hand inched towards the lighter, Wilson only had one thought in his head; He knew that the lighter was the only way he could get her attention, it was his only hope. Willow _ couldn’t  _ just pick it up. He couldn’t let her. So, Wilson did the only thing he could think of.

 

He picked up the lighter as best he could, and tried to throw it away. Well, because of how strangely his form operated, perhaps it was more of a kick…? 

 

Well, neither word felt quite right to describe it, so he supposes that it was some strange mix of a throw and a kick.

 

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that now, Willow was definitely paying attention. 

 

“Ah!” The pyromaniac cried out in surprise, eyes fixed on the lighter. Wilson got an idea.

 

If he could just keep throwing it like this, he could lead her back to camp! Of course!

 

“What…?” She murmured, leaning down to get a closer look at the lighter, Wilson darted past her and moved it again, and watched as her eyes widened.

 

“Are… you trying to lead me somewhere?” She murmured, and even though Wilson knew she couldn’t see him, he grinned widely. He tried to move the lighter again, but to his surprise, his strange limb faded through the item. He was confused, and tried again, only to be able to move it with no resistance.

 

He let out a confused noise, wondering what was happening. He watched the lighter as it glowed brightly, before the light faded. Cautiously, he tried to move it again, succeeding easily.

 

Oh, so there was a cooldown. Great. 

 

Wilson sighed, but decided to look on the bright side. Willow was standing at this point, and following behind the lighter slowly. Although she definitely looked confused, it didn’t look like she was going to stop and try to get her lighter back any time soon, which was good.

 

Wilson, despite his limitations, continued to lead Willow back to camp.

 

**…**

 

Wilson quickly figured out that, despite being a ghost, he could still feel tired. Not the kind of tired that he was used to, the kind of tired that you get when you don’t sleep enough, no, but the kind of tired you feel after physical activity, like running long distances or moving heavy objects.

 

At least he was used to the kind of sleep-deprived tired. Although he felt the other kind of tired a lot more than he did before thanks to his arrival at the Constant, he still wasn’t used to it.

 

It was the worst kind of tired, in his opinion.

 

But it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting Willow back to camp. It was only a few more throws. A few more kicks…. And.... 

 

Wilson grinned widely as the camp came into view, moving the lighter one final time before drifting away from it, looking at Willow with a triumphant grin on his face. Even if he was tired, it was worth it to help Willow.

 

He watched as after a moment, she knelt down, picking up her lighter before rising to her feet again. Finally, the girl took in her surroundings. Wilson watched as she scanned across the ruins of the camp, eyes pausing on her fellow survivors rebuilding the most important parts of it.

 

Willow, expressionless, slowly made her way to her own section of camp.

 

If Wilson were to still have shoulders he’s sure they would’ve sagged sadly. He didn’t know what he was expecting her to do, but it wasn’t really that. She’d had practically no reaction to being lead back here.

 

Well, it was kind of unreasonable to expect any more than that, he supposed. She was still trying to process the fact that, erm… Well, she was trying to accept the fact that he was dead. Which, now that he thought about it, Wilson had to do as well. He hadn’t really had time to think things over yet. Things were going to be a lot different now that he was like this, to say the least.

 

He sighed, the echoey noise only being heard by himself. He looked across the camp, trying to see how everyone else was coping.

 

He noticed that the alchemy engine was fixed, which was a good start. After all, it would be hard to survive without being able to prototype things. Most of the survivors were now trying to fix the kitchen area of the base.

 

The icebox was reassembled already (the fact that some bits of it were a little misshapen and dirty while others looked brand new didn’t matter), which was good. Everyone was currently working on fixing the crock pots next, which was a good move in Wilson’s opinion. 

 

Crock pots were a huge help in survival in the Constant. In a place where every little bit of food is important, it’s essential to be able to get the most out of your meals.

 

The survivors were only able to fix one, though, before they all headed to the community fire pit, which he hadn’t noticed that they’d fixed. Night time was fast approaching, so it made sense.

 

Everyone except Willow started gathering around the fire pit, murmuring quietly. The atmosphere there was suffocating, the grief in the air clear to everyone there.

 

Wilson’s eyes darted about anxiously. Quickly, he noticed something that was very wrong.

 

Webber wasn’t there. 

 

Wilson darted off, looking for the spider child. Where were they?! The sun was just about to set, they should be here by now!

 

Wilson found them quickly, luckily, the child darting over towards the communal fire. Wilson’s eyes widened a bit as he noticed something. 

  
Did he… Did Webber just come from the direction of his grave?

 

Wilson realized quickly what they were doing there. The spider child must’ve been looking for Willow. Of course, Webber was a sweet kid, it’s obvious that they’d be worried about Willow’s well being. Well, hopefully they’d sleep better tonight knowing that at least Willow was okay.

 

Wilson heard a faint curse in the distance, and paused. After a moment, he decided to check it out. He found none other than Willow, hastily throwing a log onto her newly-repaired fire pit.

 

She’d… only managed to repair that? She must’ve been moving pretty slow, then.

  
Well, Wilson supposed that it made sense. Being lost in thought and freezing cold probably wasn’t a good combination for speed. 

 

The sky went fully dark, and Wilson shuddered. He was floating a little ways out of the radius of the fire, and yet, he was fine. Thinking about it, Wilson decided this made sense. He supposed that The Night Monster couldn’t hurt him if he was already dead. 

 

Still, being in the dark left him with a deep sense of dread, and he darted into the fire’s radius anxiously.

 

He paused, and for lack for lack of anything better to do, he stared into the fire intensely. Despite the fact that he knew that Willow didn’t see him, he still felt awkward. He hoped that if she knew he were here, she wouldn’t mind his presence. 

 

Slowly, he looked over to his companion. Her eyes were clearer now, seemingly out of her daze. The fear of the night must’ve been strong enough to snap her out of it, he realized. 

 

Suddenly, she tensed up, and looked slowly to the lighter, the expression on her face looking like a dark realization had set in. Her eyes widened.

 

Oh boy, that’s probably not a good sign.

 

Willow opened her mouth, before shutting it again. She looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. “Oh no, I am  _ not  _ about to start trying to talk to my lighter!” She grumbled to herself.

 

Oh, so that’s what she was thinking about… Yeah, that made sense. Wilson couldn’t help but start to worry. If something like this had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for days until he figured out how it was possible.

 

So how would Willow react?

 

“I’m probably just losing my mind.” She sighed. Wilson froze.

 

… That was it? She was just going to completely dismiss what had happened? How?   
  
Well, it was probably for the best anyway, Wilson decided with a sigh. Even if she was going to worry about what had happened, there was no way for her to find him, so she’d either keep worrying or forget about it. So it was probably better that she wouldn’t worry at all. 

 

Wilson sighed, before noticing Willow. She looked nervous, and hugged her knees to her chest. Tears shined in her eyes as she buried her face in her arms. 

 

Wilson’s eyes widened. Oh, even if she wasn’t worried about how what had happened was possible, this still wasn’t good. This might even be worse! Now she thinks that she’s just insane!

 

The ghost watched as her shoulders shook, his eyes darting around anxiously. He couldn’t leave her like this, he decided, he couldn’t let her think that she was crazy. She needed some form of closure. Suddenly, Wilson spotted the lighter.

  
Well, it wasn’t like he had any better ideas. Despite his better judgement, he reached out and touched the lighter.

 

This time, he didn’t move his strange ghostly limb away from the lighter, merely letting it stay still. He watched as Willow looked up, noticing the glow of the lighter. Her eyes widened.

 

“Oh- Oh my god?!” She gasped. “Hello?!” She cried out, before immediately looking like she regretted it.

 

Wilson chuckled, but didn’t move away from the lighter yet. Willow looked mesmerized by its glow.

 

“Is this real…?” She murmured to herself. Her face morphed to one of concern. Wilson froze. Wait, this was helping, wasn’t it? Was he just making it worse?   
  
Suddenly, Willow looked as if she’d had an idea, and smiled. She still looked a bit nervous, but she seemed to have calmed down. Wilson had no idea what she could be thinking.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to move away for the rest of the night. 

 

**…**

 

Willow never took her eyes off of her lighter for the whole night. Wilson felt himself grow more and more exhausted as time went on. Although simply touching the lighter wasn’t nearly as exhausting as actually moving it, he hadn’t pulled away for the whole night, and it had taken a lot out of him.

  
As soon as daylight broke, Wilson removed his strange appendage from the lighter, sighing in relief, before looking over to Willow. She… looked horrified.

 

Shit.

  
Wilson put his ghostly limb back onto the lighter, channeling his energy into it for a moment to produce a bright glow and a strange glint, before pulling away from the lighter again. 

 

Willow looked calmer, but still very nervous. She knelt down and picked up the lighter, before walking hurriedly over to the partially repaired camp.

 

Oh? What was she doing now?   
  
Wilson followed behind her, thinking to himself. Maybe he shouldn’t be following Willow like this, while she didn’t know he was here, he realized. He didn’t know if she’d be okay with that. She probably wouldn’t be...

 

But at the same time, he really didn’t want to go away. Willow held a very comforting presence to him, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to pull himself together if he was alone. His mental state already felt far to fragile. 

 

… Wait, did that mean that he was haunting her? He was a ghost now, so technically that’s what this was, right?

 

… Wilson didn’t really like the sound of that. It felt wrong to him. He didn’t want to do something like that to Willow. It felt almost creepy, and he didn’t like that at all.

 

Maybe he should go, then... He didn’t think Willow would approve of the idea of being haunted.

 

Wilson looked up, noticing that Willow was going over to Wendy now. He floated over to them slowly.  _ “Maybe I should just go now,” _ He thought.  _ “She wouldn’t want me to be here, not like this.” _

 

“Wendy!” Willow called out. The blonde turned to her, and her eyes widened slightly.

 

“Oh, you’re alive. I thought that the darkness had taken you.” She muttered, voice monotone. You’d have to know her very well to catch the faint hint of relief that her tone held.

 

Willow stared blankly at the girl, while Wilson averted his eyes. Willow almost  _ did  _ get taken by the darkness... He didn’t want to think about that.

 

“Okay, but seriously, Wendy.” Willow began again, seemingly choosing to ignore the smaller girl’s words. “Do you notice anything weird about my lighter?”

 

Wilson’s eyes widened. Was Willow trying to show Wendy what he had been doing? Why?

 

Wendy stared at the lighter in concentration for a moment, before looking back up at Willow. “No.”

 

Wilson fidgeted awkwardly. Should he be doing something? Should he not do anything? Should he leave altogether? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure how much he should be doing. What was Willow trying to do, anyway?

 

The taller girl sighed, looking down at her lighter with a frustrated look on her face. “It’s not doing it right now.”   
  
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Wendy asked.

 

_ “Yes, thank you, Wendy.”  _ Wilson thought to himself. That was what he had wanted to know too.

 

Willow visibly shuddered.

 

“I thought I noticed something weird with my lighter, but I guess I was wrong. I-I think I’m losing it.” The pyromaniac murmured, sounding terrified absolutely defeated.

 

Wilson’s eyes widened.

  
Shit.   
  
She must’ve been trying to figure out whether or not she was insane! Of course, if something so impossible had happened to him, he would question it too! He had to fix this immediately, he couldn’t let Willow think that she was insane!

 

Wilson, knowing that this was the only way to fix this situation, touched the lighter. What little energy he had felt as if it was seeping away. He felt his ghostly form flicker, in something similar to what a shudder would be if he were still human.

 

“Wait. _Wait._ ” Willow gasped. “Do you see that? Please tell me you see that.” 

 

Wendy squinted at the lighter. Wilson did his best to make sure that his light was as visible as possible, but to no avail. 

 

“I… I’m afraid I don’t. I’m sorry, Willow.” Wendy spoke, sounding downcast. Wilson’s eyes widened. No, no, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t let this happen! 

 

“No,  _ no.  _ I-It’s hard to see, there’s gotta be a way to make it easier for you to see!” Willow denied, shaking her head vigorously. 

 

“If there’s a way to make it easier to see, try it. Trust me, I  _ do  _ want to see what you’re seeing, but I’m afraid you might be right. You might be going crazy.” Wendy explained, looking faintly hopeful. 

 

There was a moment of tense silence as Willow tried her best to think about what she should do. After a moment, Wilson saw her eyes widen.

 

“It glows!” She exclaimed suddenly. Wilson gasped. Of course! That was perfect!

 

“T-The lighter, it should glow, i-it should be glowing!” She explained, using her hands to cast a shadow over the lighter. Wilson noticed Wendy hesitate, before also putting her hands over the lighter. 

 

Wilson focused, and channeled all of his remaining energy into making sure that the lighter could glow as brightly as possible. He felt strength he didn’t even know he had draining. He shuddered. 

 

“I-I see it!” Wendy cried out. Wilson let out a shuddery sigh, relieved. “Y-You do?! I haven’t completely lost it?!” Willow asked, a hopeful smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

  
Wilson decided that his absolute loss of energy was worth it.

 

“Yeah! I do!” Wendy grinned.

 

“Oh, great, that-that’s… I’m…” Willow sniffled, taking a moment to try to compose herself. “That’s just… That’s just so great to hear.”

 

Wilson’s face broke out in a shaky grin, glad that he could help. He wasn’t sure if it was morally correct to be here, but seeing Willow this happy… Well, he did that, right? So didn’t that mean he could stay a little bit longer?

 

Wilson felt himself flicker a bit more, and grew a bit concerned; was it normal to shiver so much as a ghost? His thoughts were interrupted, though, by a voice.

 

“W-Wilson?! Is that you?!”    
  
The voice of whoever was speaking was feminine, and sounded faintly similar to Wendy’s, but with a strange echo. Wilson froze. Someone… Could see him?!   
  
He turned to address who was speaking to him. He saw a floating mass, similar to his current body, except instead of having his hair, it had a flower instead.

 

“A-Abigail?!” He choked out, shocked. Abigail was here?! She could see him?! He could understand her?!

 

“H-How are you here?!” She cried out.   
  
“I-I don’t know! Y-You can see me?!” Wilson asked, gasping. He felt an incredible relief wash over him. He wasn’t alone anymore. Someone could hear him, someone knew he was here.

 

“What? What’s happening, Abigail?” Wendy asked, looking to her sister, concern written across her face.

 

“Wilson! Wilson is here! I can see him, he’s right next to me!” She explained frantically. Her twin’s eyes widened. 

 

“What?!” She gasped.

 

“What? What’s going on?!” Willow asked, sounding concerned. 

 

Wendy paused, seeming to process the information she’d just learned and the best way to tell Willow about it. After a moment, she spoke.

 

“Willow…Abigail… W-We know what’s happening to your lighter…” Wendy began, sounding shaken. 

 

“What?! What’s happening to it?!” Willow cried out. 

 

“It’s being possessed… Abigail says it’s Wilson.”

 

There was  tense moment of silence as Willow processed the news. Finally, after a long moment, she whispered a single word.

 

_ “... What?” _

 

Wendy shivered, a small, hopeful smile appearing on her face. “A-Abigail… She said she can see Wilson. He’s right here with us…” 

 

Finally, Willow broke, a new wave of tears streaming down her face. “... R-Really?” She choked out, almost unable to believe that this was real.

 

“ _ Yes,  _ yes he’s really here!” Wendy exclaimed, on the brink of tears as well.

 

“Oh- Oh my god!! I-I can’t believe it, he’s really here!” Willow cried out, beaming.

 

“Yes!”

 

Willow let out a weak, watery chuckle, glancing down at her lighter. Right now, she didn’t even care that this meant Wilson had seen her sobbing over him the whole time. That might be embarrassing later, but for now, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but overwhelming relief. 

 

Instead, she just clutched the lighter closer to her. 

 

“I…” She breathed quietly, “Wilson…”

 

Willow choked, trying to formulate a proper sentence, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. Finally, she was able to say something coherent. 

 

“Th… Thank you…”   
  
Wilson froze, his eyes widening. 

 

“Thank you for saving me.” 

 

“What exactly do you mean by that…?” Wendy asked. Willow looked to her with teary eyes.

  
“H-He used the lighter to l-lead me back to t-the camp. If he w-wasn’t there, I-I would’ve…”   
  
Wendy’s eyes widened. 

 

“Wait, you lead her back to camp?” Abigail asked. “How in the world did you do that…?”   
  
“I-I just moved it… I moved it back there so she’d be safe…” Wilson explained. Abigail’s eyes widened.

  
“B-But… That must’ve taken so much energy to do…!”

 

“Hmm? Abigail, what’s happening?”

 

“And you were just making the lighter glow now… How do you still have a form at this point? If I tried to do that, I-I would’ve had to go back into the flower…”

 

Wilson shivered, and looked to Abigail in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”   
  
Wendy watched her sister intently, unsure of what was going on. But based on what Abigail was saying… Something must be happening. She felt herself grow concerned.

 

“If I use up too much energy, I have t-to go back into my flower to rest… It leaves me without a form for a few days.” She explained. “But if you used up so much energy… How are you still here?”

 

“I…” Wilson choked out, feeling as though if he were still human, he’d be going pale. “I-I don’t know…”    
  
He paused, and after a moment, quietly asked the ghost a question. 

 

“Am… Am I going to be okay, Abigail...? I-I’m not going to die again, r-right?”

 

Abigail froze. “No, no! You aren’t going to die! At least, I don’t think you’re going to die…”   
  
“What? Abigail, what’s happening?” Wendy asked, immediately growing concerned. 

 

“Wilson… He used up WAY more energy than I thought could be possible… He seems really unstable, but I don’t know what’s going to happen to him!” She explained.

 

“Oh… Oh, that certainly isn’t good.” Wendy murmured, a dark look coming across her face.

  
“What’s going on…?” Willow piped up quietly.

 

Everyone else froze, looking to Willow. She had a soft, concerned expression on her face. She seemed confused, and slightly worried.

 

“Wilson… He apparently used up a lot of energy doing… Whatever he’s been doing this whole time. Usually, when Abigail uses up too much energy, she goes back into her flower but…”

  
Wendy paused, before telling Willow exactly what was happening.

  
“... We don’t know what’s going to happen to Wilson. We don’t know if he has anything like what Abigail has to get his energy back.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “W-What?” 

 

“Don’t worry, though, he’ll end up fine, I’m sure. Abigail always has, so I’m sure Wilson will be, too...” Wendy told her, although she looked a bit unsure herself.

  
“What…” Wilson began, nervous. “What should I do now…?”   
  
“Well, I guess you can try to find out if you have your own flower, so to speak...” Abigail began, unsure. 

 

“Concentrate. Do you feel a pull towards anything? Do you feel as if you should be going anywhere? Focus on your feelings, and your soul.”

 

Wilson paused, before doing as instructed. He went still, and tried to focus. He felt as if he couldn’t keep still, as if he had to keep moving. He didn’t know where his destination was, or why he had to go, but he couldn’t stay where he was any longer.

 

“Y-Yes, I think I may be feeling something like that.” Wilson realized.   
  
“Good. Does any specific location come to mind?”   
  
“N-No…”   
  
“Okay, then. Just close your eyes and move forward, in whichever direction you feel like you need to go.”   
  
“O-Okay, I-I’ll try…” Wilson responded, before closing his eyes. He stopped moving, and immediately felt like he needed to go. He drifted forward blindly, floating towards an unknown destination.

 

Abigail silently followed behind him. Wendy followed her sister, unsure of exactly what was happening, but knowing that Abigail had to be doing something right. Willow trailed behind the two, completely unsure of what was going on, but trusting that the sisters knew what they were doing nonetheless. 

 

Wilson continued on his journey, turning and twisting down a path he couldn’t see. He didn’t know what he was doing, exactly, or why, but he decided that he should just trust his instincts. He felt heavy, exhausted, and that feeling only grew the more he drifted.

  
After a moment, he stopped. He only felt one urge, now.   
  
Go straight down.   
  
Wilson opened his eyes slowly, confused. Were they at a sinkhole?   
  
He found himself face to face with his own grave.

  
He flinched, eyes widening. How did he end up here? And, more importantly, why?   
  
“Of course…” Abigail murmured, causing Wilson to startle. He didn’t notice that she’d followed him. “There must be something on your body you’re attached to… I’m not sure what, exactly, but whatever it is, you’ll be able to reside inside of it as soon as you get close.” 

 

Wilson shivered.    
  
“S-So… I have to…?”   
  
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You can just sink into the ground, and when you wake up, you’ll be okay again. Then we can figure out what we should do next, okay?”   
  
Wilson shuddered. Despite everything, he felt a clear pull, now. He had to go down there.    
  
“What’s… What’s going on? Why are we here?” Willow asked timidly, seeming uncomfortable at the sight of her best friend’s grave.

 

“Wilson was told to go wherever he felt to go with his eyes closed to try and find what his spirit was attached to… Whatever it is, it must be buried with him.” Wendy explained, a dark look in her eyes.

  
“W-What…?” Willow murmured. “Wait, d-does that mean we have to…?”   
  
Wendy’s eyes widened, knowing what Willow was about to say before she even finished her sentence. “No, no, of course not! We don’t need to dig him up, t-that’d just be unreasonable! He can just phase through the ground, don’t worry…”   
  
“Oh. O-Oh, okay, of course…” Willow sighed, relieved. “But… When will he be back?”   
  
“I… Don’t know.” Wendy responded solemnly.

  
They fell into a heavy silence for a moment, processing what this would mean. Willow had just gotten the news that her friend was back, and now, she had to wait longer to be able to talk to him? That… Was terrible. But, at least he was somewhat alright…

 

“H-Hey…” Willow began timidly. “Wilson… If you can hear me, I’ll be waiting for you when you come back, okay?”

 

Wilson’s eyes widened. But, after a moment, he felt a happiness swell up in his heart. He couldn’t help but break out into a grin.

 

“Tell her that I’ll try to be back soon, okay Abigail?” Wilson requested. Abigail grinned sadly. “Alright.”   
  
Wilson turned back to face his grave, and after a moment, began to sink down into it.

 

The feeling of phasing into the ground was incredibly strange, but Wilson was unable to focus on that as he felt himself being pulled further downwards. And, after a moment, one of his ghostly limbs touched an object in the ground that he couldn’t see, and he felt himself quickly fading into a darkness very similar to sleep.

  
**…**

 

When Wilson woke up, he woke up in a panic, his eyes shooting open suddenly as he regained consciousness.

 

He felt energized and jittery, but he couldn’t see his surroundings at all. It took him a moment to remember where he was; Of course he couldn’t see, he was underground!   
  
He floated upwards easily, no longer feeling the pull that lead him to this spot, and his ghostly form emerged above-ground. He looked around.

  
It seemed to be night time, but it wasn’t dark. There was a full moon shining brilliantly in the sky, illuminating the Constant in an abnormal blue light.

 

Wilson felt full of energy, almost uncomfortably so. He wondered why he felt this way; Sure, he was expecting to regain some energy, but not this much. He took a moment to calm himself down, and felt some excess power flowing out of him.   
  
Now feeling much calmer, he floated his way over to camp; He was re-energized now, so he was sure his friends would want to see him.

  
He didn’t notice the crow that was startled away as he floated by, flying away into the air as he drifted past.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, here this is! Since my crack fic did so well, even though it sucked, I figured I'd post some actually good stuff here! Hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to leave a review if you want, I really appreciate them! Also don't expect this to update any time soon, it might, but I'm like really bad with that. I'll do my best though!


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